


Pomp and Circumstance

by Wolves_of_Innistrad



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Jacken, M/M, Masturbation, Mentions of past abuse, Rough Sex, Wtf am I doing, aiden has a very "odd" sex drive, fantasies, is that their ship name?, verging on mildly dub-con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-11
Updated: 2014-02-11
Packaged: 2018-01-11 23:32:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1179252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolves_of_Innistrad/pseuds/Wolves_of_Innistrad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aiden meets Jackson, and realizes he absolutely hates his guts.  And also kind of wants to jump his bones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hatesturbation

                It was just supposed to be a stupid “welcome back” party.  Aiden wasn’t really even invited, he’d piggy-backed off Ethan’s invite.  Of course his brother would get invited, Danny just had to show off his boyfriend.  Not that anyone bothered Aiden, they all pretty much kept their distance, save Danny, Ethan and Scott.  To be honest, he still wasn’t sure why Scott had accepted them as Betas.  Once again they were the low men on the totem pole, but something had changed.  Even though most of the pack treated them as a unit, more like one person, which maybe would have made since if they could still become, as Stiles called it, "Voltron Wolf,”  Aiden had noticed the difference.  As Danny had been accepted into the pack, Ethan’s role had suddenly moved up.  Sure he would never be above Isaac or Derek, but he was certainly above Aiden.  With his and Lydia’s break up, for real this time, things had only gotten worse for him.

                Yet still he had opted to come along, because it was his pack, and pack talk had hinted that a new member might be added.  He didn’t know much about this guy, this Jackson they spoke of.  “Oh, they’ll get along just swimmingly,” Stiles had joked, glaring at him, face marred by that ridiculous smirk he always had.   So when he got there he was expecting, well, he wasn’t sure what he was expecting.  It definitely wasn’t Jackson.  Jackson with the perfectly coiffed hair, the strong features, the air of _I couldn’t give a shit about you peons._   He’d tried to ignore it though, push it away, even though he caught himself glancing at the boy half the night.  It was Lydia he’d told himself.  Lydia was who he was staring at, not Jackson.  Why would he stare at Jackson?  Ethan was the gay one… right?

                “So, have you met Jackson yet?” Ethan had said, clapping him on the back, smiling wide.  It wasn’t that Aiden resented his brother for ingratiating himself to the pack, he didn’t.  Still it stung that Ethan had spent most of the night mingling, off with Danny and meeting this new Beta, than with him.

                “No, I haven’t.  He’s pack now right?  He’ll be at the meetings,” Aiden scoffed, taking a sip of his drink.  Regrettably, it was non-alcoholic.  Not that it’d make a difference anyway, but it’d taste better than the swill they had right now.  He only hoped Ethan wouldn’t smell the nerves flowing off him.

                “You alright bro?” well shit.

                “Fine,” he gritted out, eyes fixed on Jackson.  No, Lydia.  Fixed on Lydia.

                “Alright, who told you?”

                “Told me what?” he said, turning to his brother.

                “That Lydia and Jackson used to date?  Was it Stiles?  I bet it was Stiles…” Ethan said, stomping off towards his Alpha.  Ethan had taken to keeping tabs on what everyone in the group did and then reporting it back to the Alpha.  That of course probably helped his status too.  That left Aiden standing, fingers sweating, barely able to grip his cup.  Jackson and Lydia?  Well, he wasn’t jealous.  Lydia and him were over.  No reason for it.  And yet, he couldn’t shake this awful feeling in his stomach.

                As the night wound down, pack members breaking off into their own little groups, Aiden noticed Stiles ambling towards him.  Before he could escape, Stiles was on him, dragging him away haphazardly.  Not that he couldn’t have resisted, but maiming the best friend of your Alpha was typically frowned upon.  Besides, he wasn’t ashamed to admit, to himself and Ethan, just that one time, that Stilinski was the faintest bit terrifying when he went off the rails.  

                “Lis’en ‘ere, Aida, Eda, Aidan…” Stiles mumbled, clearly inebriated.  He’d long since stopped wondering how that happened at a sober party, it was Stiles, he always had a plan.  And if what Ethan said was true, that Lydia had dated Jackson, well of course Stiles would want to get drunk.  

                “What are you doing?”

                “Intridusin’ yuh to Jackie,” he giggled, tipsily leading Aiden towards where Jackson stood, seemingly watching over everyone in the most magisterial way.  Mentally he facepalmed, realizing how ridiculous he was in his word choice for the boy.  The stupid boy that he certainly didn’t care for or anything.  

                Aiden groaned, watching as Jackson noticed their presence and, coincidentally, groaned in displeasure as well.

                “Lizard boy, meet Volo, volcarona, voltage… Voltron… voltron wolf, or one ha’f anyways…” Stiles muttered, swinging an arm between them, as if this was the normal way to introduce two people.

                “Hey,” Jackson said, voice nonchalant, eyes roving the room, paying absolutely no attention to Aidan.  

                “Hel-, hi, I… Uh, I’m Ai- um, Aidan…” he stammered, and what was wrong with him?  Choking on his spit, he coughed for a moment, looking back up to see Jackson staring at him.

                “So not Ethan, right?” Jackson drawled.  Well that was upsetting.

                “No, no, I’m not, I’m n- **not Ethan**!” he snarled, baring his fangs.  Jackson just flashed his eyes blue, no fangs, but not backing down.

                “Really want to go _Winklevoss?”_

                “Who the fuck is a winkewhatever?”

                “Nevermind, wouldn’t expect a lug like you to get that reference.”

                “Come on stink breath, I may not be an Alpha anymore, but I can still kick your ass.”

                “I was a fucking **Kanima** _bitch_ , get on my level!”

                “I was part of the Alpha Pack!”

                “I died and came back to life!”

                It was at that moment Scott came over, pushing them apart and shifting his eyes red.  He didn’t need to say any more, both boys stopped, Aidan spinning on his heel and tromping off.  No one followed him, came to check how he was, nothing.  Not even Ethan, traitor that he was.  

                The bike ride home was arduous, Aidan barely able to concentrate, eyes flashing blue over and over behind his visor.  Getting off his bike at the shitty apartment he and Ethan shared, he checked his grips.  Sure enough, he’d clawed the shit out of them.  The door slammed behind him, rattling on its hinges as he huffed, making his way to his room.  All he wanted was to relax and sleep, if he could.  Finally he decided, Ethan gone and likely going to be out with Danny for some hours, that he could sneak in some alone time.

                From under his bed he produced a bottle of lotion and a Playboy he’d stolen from a convenience store when he was 15.  It wasn’t a normal memento, but to him it meant something.  It had been the first rule he’d broken, disobeying his Alpha at the time.  Who knew that little act of pubescent defiance would lead him here.  Set him on the path to becoming a murderer.  Well, he usually didn’t think aobut it like that, but some nights, especially when Ethan had lectured him on his attitude, or he’d watched how the others acted around him, he felt like he was, remembered the things he’d done.  He could justify most of it, honest he could.  Their old pack had deserved it, and so had the few other people he’d killed under Deucalion’s rule, save Boyd.  Ethan never had though.  He’d always made sure Ethan didn’t have to, even impersonating him once, covering the place in his scent by any means necessary so Ethan didn’t have to kill again.  He could be a good brother, when he wanted to be.  _He could._

                Pushing those thoughts from his head, he blinked back to the magazine in hand, unzipping his jeans and pulling them down around his thighs.  The lotion was cold, but it felt good on his member, body still searing with heat from the adrenaline of the fight.  The fight with that asshole Jackson.  Jackson with those electric blue eyes, like his own.  The ones that said he had seen so much, understood what it was to kill someone, what it was to feel regret, but be too proud to show it.  

                Fuck, he hated this Jackson kid already.  He had Lydia, Danny was all over him. Fawning like he did no other save Ethan.  Stiles even had better banter with Jackson.  It was like he was a replacement, the jerk they all put up with as a Nicotine patch for missing Jackson.  How cruel it was, having to see him.  Surely he’d be at the pack meetings.  And training, fuck, Aiden would probably have to spar with him.  Have to wrap his arms around him and pin him to the ground.  Or Jackson would pin him.  

                Push him down into the ground, face buried in the dirt.  One clawed hand pressed hard against his neck, achingly close to his vitals, to his throat, forcing him to bare it in submission.  Arms twisted behind himself, Jackson’s slim, but muscular frame pinning them up against his back.  He’d groan, try to bust out, but Jackson would overpower him, force him back down.  And then maybe his hands would snake down lower, cupping his ass.  They’d knead the tender flesh, not like Lydia did, no, this would be rough, and harsh, just what Aidan liked.  

                And then one claw would slide upwards, ripping straight through the material of his pants, seams splitting as Jackson pulled them apart, leaving only his boxers.  Of course Jackson would take those too, claws slashing them from the waistband down.  And then he’d be exposed, right on display for Jackson.  And Jackson would… Jackson would…

                Aidan let out a guttural growl as he came hard, strings of cum flying everywhere, coating his chest and pants.  Panting, he lay, dazed for a moment, as he realized what had just happened.  Looking down at his hand as if it had betrayed him, it became clear, he’d started masturbating reading the porno, and somewhere along the line his train of thought had been derailed by Jackson.  Furious masturbation, hatesturbation he’d once called it, wasn’t new to Aidan.  This though?  The sordid little fantasy that had been playing behind his eyes, so vivid, so _good_.  That was new.  And it was more terrifying than anything he’d ever experienced.


	2. Omega Fantasies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning, Aiden's sex fantasy is very violent and also somewhat dub-con. Or a lot dub-con, I'm not entirely sure since I never write that stuff. At the very least it's incredibly rough sex.

                He’d ignored it.  It was just a fluke, anger and lust got confused easily by the body.  It wasn’t like he hadn’t had Deucalion drift into his head when he was vividly hate-fucking someone in his mind.  That was normal, well, normal for Aiden.  So he went on as usual, no one noticing if he was being a bit surlier than normal.  And It had almost been expected that he and Jackson would clash, Scott having them keep their distance for a while.  Things got back to normal, Aiden moved on, forgot all about it.  Then Scott assigned them to spar.

                It was brutal, they’d gone far past sparring and fought.  Scott had let them go, likely figuring they’d get it out of their system if they finally beat each other senseless.  Except Jackson stopped after a while, nose tilted upwards, sniffing the air.  And Aiden bolted.  It hadn’t even taken a second for him to realize what had happened, what Jackson smelled.  He only hoped the ludicrousness of it would throw Jackson off.  Sitting in the woods, far off from the others, he pulled his dick out, masturbating furiously until he came in hot stripes against the tree.  Then he ran home, proverbial limp tail between his legs.

                Still he’d tried to put it out of his mind, write it off to hormones, adrenaline, anything but what he feared it was.  That was, until Jenny Halsis.  She was a senior, pretty in that way that girls are who wear entirely too much makeup and have very low self-esteem.  In other words, easy pickings for him.  They’d gone at it, and it was moderately enjoyable.  Not bad, just ok.  And then he’d had his orgasm, and while basking in his afterglow, Jenny turned to him, strange look on her face.

                “Who’s Jackson?” she asked, voice calm, but he could hear the tremor in her heart, the odd worry.

                “What?”

                “Who’s Jackson… You, uh, you said his name when you, well, you know, finished.”

                “No I didn’t.” He said firmly, sitting bolt upright and turning away from her.

                “Pretty sure you did, your mouth was right next to my ear after all.”

                “Then you need to get your ears checked!” He’d growled, claws digging into his thigh just out of her sight.

                “Well you need to get out of the closet!” Jenny snapped back.

                “I’M NOT GAY!” Aiden roared, smashing the lamp on her bedside table before storming out.  

                After that, well, he’d avoided sex.  That only put him more on edge though, grated on his nerves.  When it became noticeable, he lied, only barely fooling the others.  Not Ethan though, who knew something was up with his twin.  Thankfully Ethan and Danny were getting more serious, and that meant he was gone most of the time.  Which was good, because he complained that Aiden’s room reeked of sex when he was home.  He couldn’t help it though, Aiden needed sex, and after his self-imposed ban, well, his own hand had to take up the task.  

                One day, in the middle of a particularly vigorous session, his hand had slipped lower.  Where before it had been fondling his balls, now it was farther down.  He was too into it to really know what he was doing, until his finger was hovering over his own entrance, ready to do who knows what.  That caught him, stopped him cold.  He was still hard though, and no one was there… glancing around and hating himself for it, he let his hand continue, rubbing around his rosebud roughly.  It was… different.  

                Soon he was making these needy moans he never let himself make, never really wanted to make until now.  The extra stimulation was just, so new, so thrilling, that when the pad of his finger almost started pushing inside he almost let it.  But he stopped.  Stopped everything, put his pants on, laid down and thought of rom-coms, flowers, anything boring and unmasculine.  

                It happened a few more times, he got so close before stopping, never giving in fully to it.  Even though his body started craving it, he could feel himself grinding down onto his hand each time, without his consent.  Then one day he gave up.  His brother did it, he was sure of that.  Unfortunately.  So he snuck a peak in Ethan’s room, found, thankfully, an unopened bottle of lube and stole it.  Gulping, he locked his door and laid down a towel, knowing he didn’t want any evidence of this later.

                It was, in a word, life-changing.  At first he hadn’t really gotten it, enjoyed the burn, the stretch of it, but didn’t really see where the actual pleasure came from.  It wasn’t until he’d been poking around for over a half hour, that he worked up to a second finger.  It had hurt, and he suddenly had a lot more respect for his brother.  Then it happened.  

                Pushing in, his fingers had hit something.  It felt a bit weird, so he tried to replicate it, eventually pushing too hard against it.  He knew it was too hard when he doubled over, entire body like a livewire.  Aiden wasn’t even sure if it had been pleasurable or not, but it was the most intense fucking thing he’d felt since he started.  A few more presses and he was cumming harder than he ever had.  The afterglow even seemed to last longer.  So long that when he heard the door to the apartment opening, he still had his fingers inside himself. Never had he been more happy they had separate bathrooms, rushing to get into the shower and try to wash the smell of what he’d done off himself.

                It was like a domino effect he thought, getting himself ready for another session.  After only a few weeks he’d fallen so far, first to fingering himself, then finger fucking himself, and then, finally, indulging in his lurid fantasies.  He still clung, feebly, to the notion that he was entirely straight, he just enjoyed massaging his prostate.  Massaging his prostate while he thought about Jackson.  And it was only Jackson, he never saw another guy in his fantasies.  And they weren’t even always Jackson, a few times it had been Lydia, using a strap-on, something he hadn’t even realized was a thing until his porn searches suddenly broadened considerably.  Then Allison with a vibrator.  But mostly Jackson.  

                The most recent had occurred while he was kneeling on his bed, three fingers buried deep inside himself and just rocking slowly on them.  A fantasy he’d been working on, refining you might say, over the course of his sessions, but it always started the same.  Scott forcing them to spar.  Jackson beating his ass.  Him catching Jackson afterwards, asking for a rematch.  The two of them  walking off into the forest, letting the darkness swallow their forms until they emerged at a clearing.

                There they’d both stripped their shirts off, wolfed out, and went at it.  By the time they were finished, both had scrapes and cuts everywhere, even an errant bite mark in Aiden’s left shoulder.  Aiden would be breathing hard, barely standing, but somehow, Jackson would have enough energy left to swagger over, taunt him.  Then he’d stare down and see Aiden’s obscene erection.  A wicked smiled would flash across that pretty face, and Jackson would make his move.

                He’d push Aiden down to his knees, feeling the dirt grinding into his jeans,  A firm hand would card through his hair, finding just enough purchase to pulling him by it.  His neck bared, Jackson would smirk, eyes flashing blue, before speaking.  “I may be the newest addition to the pack, but you’re still the bitch,” Jackson would say, casually, nonchalant.  Aiden would just kneel there, take it.  “So today, since I beat your ass, I’m going to take it.  Make you the bitch you are.”

                After that things would move swiftly, Jackson pulling out his cock, practically shoving it down Aiden’s throat.  He’d gag, wheeze for breathe, but only get harder, only want Jackson more with each humiliation.   Eventually Jackson would be naked, would claw the clothes right off Aiden’s body, sometimes even graze the skin, leave marks where his claws had been.  Then he’d take Aiden.

                Each time was different, sometimes he’d take Aiden apart, slow and methodical, make him beg to be mounted, to have Jackson inside him.  Others it would be swift, no lube, no prep, just a searing pain, and then Jackson buried to the hilt inside his heat.  This was one of those times.   He’d cried out, growled and snapped his teeth, his own eyes mirroring the electric blue of Jackson’s.  Claws digging into the ground, Jackson would pound him, and, even in his haste, his brutal fucking of Aiden, he’d enjoy it.  He moan in pleasure like the bitch Jackson was making him as the man fucked into his prostate.  

                Jackson, for his part, wouldn’t even  reach around a hand to stroke him.  Just keep thrusting, hard and fast, as Aiden’s cock was pushed into the ground.  And that’s usually how he’d cum, screaming Jackson’s name into the night as the man buried himself deep inside, marking him, filling him with his seed, clamping his jaws down on the other shoulder, dual marks in his skin.  At that moment Aiden pushed hard, much too hard, but that was how he liked it, into his own prostate and began jerking himself at a maddening pace.  It took only seconds for him to find his orgasm.  Afterwards he’d feel ashamed, not know what was wrong with him, why this was what got him off more than anything else, but knowing, without a doubt, that he’d do it again.  

**Author's Note:**

> Don't even ask me. This is like, gonna be barely above PWP, unless sit gets away from me and grows a plot. I don't think I've read this pairing before, but it makes so much sense in a weird way.
> 
> As always, thanks to all my Wonderful Readers for the comments, subs and kudosl


End file.
